Snow Dragons
by ancientmaverick
Summary: Tony has been part of a secret organization for nine years. The problem? Gibbs doesn't know. Reposted.
1. Prologue

Somewhere in the United States of America, there is an office building. In that building, there is an office suite consisting of an outer reception area, and an inner office. The outer office area contains a computer desk, two chairs and a floor lamp. The inner office contains a larger computer desk holding four computer monitors. There are three televisions on wall mounts, each tuned to a different station.

A woman of average height, average features, and above-average intelligence occupies the reception desk. Her nameplate reads 'Miss White.'

The door to the inner office reads 'Mr. Black,' and it is he who sits behind the desk. He has the televisions muted, the closed caption feature activated. He is looking, however, at one of the computer monitors, which is flashing a deep blue. He checks his phone, then stands and walks out of the office.

"Miss White, there's been an incident. I need you to gather all intel on Operation Snow Dragon, from whatever sources you can. We're activating everyone, Code Blue, so I'll need you to make the calls."

Miss White looks up from a report on her desk. "All of them, sir?"

"Yes, I think this is going to be bad. I need them together by 0900 tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." Miss White unlocks the bottom left-hand drawer of her desk and pulls out a single sheet of paper. There are six names and phone numbers listed in no discernible order, and attached to each name is a color. She picks up the phone, dials the first number, appropriately labeled with the color Brown. A male voice answered.

"_Brown residence."_

"Is Sergeant Robert Brown available, please?"

"_Speaking."_

"Sgt. Brown, this is Melanie Jacobs from BlueTech Industries. I am calling to see if I can interest you in our new 900 series laptop."

"_I am very interested. Perhaps we could meet to discuss its features."_

"Would an appointment tomorrow work for you?"

"_That would be great. Thank you for calling."_

Miss White hangs up the phone, satisfied that the message has been delivered. She hesitates over the next name on the list, but doesn't call it. She frowns before moving on to the next color, Grey.

"_H'lo?"_

"Yes, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'm looking for a Miss Erin Waters."

"_s' me."_

"Miss Waters, this is Marleen Jackson from Blue Memorial Hospital. Your test results are in, and I'm afraid the cell count is over 900."

"_900, you say?"_

"Yes, ma'am. The doctor would like to see you tomorrow to discuss your options."

"_Well, thank you for informing me. I'll be sure to take care of that."_

Once again, Miss White hangs up, checking off the name. She smiles as she dials the third number, this time Orange.

"_What?"_

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm calling on behalf of Marcia Jenkins for a Mr. Seeley Booth?"

"_Oh, hey, yeah, sorry about that. What's up?"_

"Mr. Booth, the Blue Dress Bed and Breakfast would like to offer you a deal on your next visit. We have a two-week package available for only $900. This offer is only available through tomorrow, though."

"_Hey, that sounds great. I'll be sure to take you up on that as soon as I clear some stuff up. Thanks for calling."_

He could be late. Two more to go. She dials Red.

"_Speak."_

"Is this Trista Kraven?"

"_Yes."_

"Miss Kraven, this is Meredith Jennis calling on behalf of the BlueTones music survey. Can I interest you in an opportunity to select from 900 different CD's?"

"_Do you have more information?"_

"Can I set up an appointment for you tomorrow?"

"_I look forward to it."_

Miss White has saved Green for last because he is her favorite. She rolls her eyes, though, when a female voice answers.

"_Agent DiNozzo's phone, this is Officer David."_

"Officer David, this is Melissa Jones from BlueRay Security. Could I speak with Agent Anthony DiNozzo, please?"

"_Perhaps. He should be on his way up. Would you like me to take a message?"_

"No, thank you. I'll wait."

"_They always do."_ The comment is muttered softly, but Miss White has excellent hearing. She waits a few minutes before hearing Tony's voice on the other end.

"_Ziva, what are you doing at my desk?"_

"_Your phone was ringing. I answered."_

"_You couldn't take a message?"_

"_She wanted to wait."_

"_She who?"_

"_Says her name is Melissa Jones, from BlueRay Security."_

"_Ziva, give me the phone."_

"_Why, is she a new girlfriend? Perhaps I should tell her to call back."_

"_Ziva. NOW."_

"_Alright, brighten up, Tony. Here."_

"_DiNozzo here."_

"Agent DiNozzo, this is Melissa Jones from BlueRay Security. I'm calling about the 900SL alarm system you inquired about. Is this a good time?"

"_Um, right, actually, I would like to hear more about this. Could you call me at home, please?"_

"Certainly, I'll call back tomorrow. Have a nice day, sir."

Her phone calls finished and message delivered, Miss White turns back to her computer to do a search for information on Operation Snow Dragon.

oNCISo

_AN: Okay, the poll results are pretty definitive. I'm working on a sequel to this story, but before I start posting, I wanted to be sure this one was wrapped up and not disjointed since it was originally posted as a WIP. I'm reposting everything at once._


	2. Time Off

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo hung up the phone before turning to Ziva.

"Do not answer my phone if all you're going to do is play games."

Ziva scoffed. "That is very rich, Tony, especially coming from you."

"Just don't do it again, please?" Tony sighed, and then checked his watch. He needed to talk to the Director soon if he expected to get a leave of absence starting tomorrow. But first… "Have you seen Gibbs?"

"I believe he is talking to Ducky. Who is Melissa Jones?"

"Who?" Tony asked distractedly.

"Melissa Jones. You just spoke with her."

"Oh. She called about an alarm system I was looking at the other day." Tony checked his watch again. "I'm gonna go talk to Gibbs."

Ziva looked at him strangely. "He is going to be up here in a few minutes. Tell me more about Melissa. And why would you need an alarm system? You are a federal agent. You carry a gun."

"Later."

Tony walked quickly to the elevators, chewing his lip. It had been six months since the annual meeting, and a year before that since the last serious operation. He had a feeling this time around wasn't going to be simple surveillance. Tony punched the button for the morgue, trying to figure out what he was going to tell his boss.

xXxXx

"Ducky, are you telling me we don't have anything to go on?"

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs stared down his Medical Examiner, Dr. Donald Mallard. The case was frustrating them all, and Gibbs had hoped that new leads would pop up once Ducky did the autopsy.

"I'm sorry, Jethro, but the poor boy couldn't tell us much. He was healthier than you or I, and aside from the blow to the head, there's no sign of injury. I sent samples up to Abigail for a tox screen, but I really don't think it will tell us anything we don't already know."

"He's best friends with the son of an Admiral, a son who is missing! I need something."

"Well, perhaps Abigail will be able to enlighten us with something from the evidence you collected at the scene. For the moment, there's nothing to indicate that the Petty Officer's death was anything but accidental."

"Damn!" Gibbs had a gut feeling that he was missing something, but it was being damn elusive. He began to look at the x-rays again, not turning when he heard the doors to Autopsy slide open. 

"You have something for me, DiNozzo?"

His senior field agent stepped up quietly beside him. "He didn't make any calls on his cell in the last 24 hours, and most of the calls before then were to his mother. McGee's running down the rest. His roommate, however, has a history of calling 900 numbers, so Ziva is looking into those."

"And what are you doing?"

"I need a few days off, Boss."

Gibbs turned to face his agent, hiding his surprise, but showing plenty of anger. "You want time off when we're in the middle of a high-profile case?"

"I've been talking to a friend from Philly about a cold case, and we think we've got a new lead. I'd like to check it out."

"It can wait."

Tony refused to back down. "Boss, we don't have any new leads on _this_ case, and the Philly lead isn't going to be available for very long. I have to do this now."

Gibbs sighed. There was something Tony wasn't telling him. "You don't work in Philly anymore."

Tony just raised an eyebrow. "My job is to keep bad people off the streets. I caught this case in its infancy, and I have followed it since I left. I'm not gonna leave it to someone who doesn't know his head from his ass."

Gibbs couldn't argue with that. He had more than a few cold case files in his own desk. "How long is this going to take?"

"I'm hoping it won't take more than a few days. I'll let you know if it'll be more."

"I'm guessing you have to leave now." His tone made it very clear that this was not a guess.

"Yes."

Tony was looking at him with his 'if you don't give me time off, I'll just leave anyway' expression. Gibbs didn't like it. "All right, but you check in with me regularly, got it? I'll clear it with the Director."

Tony nodded, but didn't smile. "Thanks, Boss."

"Get outta here." Gibbs waited until his agent was at the door, and then called him back. "Tony!"

"Yeah, Boss?" Tony looked at him expectantly.

"You call me if you need backup." Gibbs stared at the younger man until he nodded, and then turned away.

He waited for the door to hiss shut, and then looked over at his old friend. "That seem weird to you, Duck?"

"I suppose it was mildly hinky, as Abigail would say, but it's happened before. What makes this different?"

"I don't know." Gibbs hesitated for a minute before facing his friend. "Call Abby, tell her to get a move on those samples." Gibbs turned to leave.

"And what will _you_ be doing?"

Gibbs didn't turn around as he punched the button on the elevator. "I'm calling Tony's old boss in Philly."

xXxXx

Tony was back on his cell as soon as he got in the elevator. He hit the emergency stop switch halfway up, waiting for someone to pick up.

"_No one is available to take your call. Please leave a message."_

"Whitey, it's me. Pick up." He waited exactly two seconds.

"_Anthony, darling! What's the trouble?"_

"My boss thinks I'm going to Philadelphia, and knowing him, he's going to check into it."

"_Cold case?"_

"Yeah, I just need the standard backstop."

"_I'll take care of it. Oh, be sure to check your email before you leave. I'll see you soon."_

"Okay, bye-" Tony heard the telltale click, and rolled his eyes at the phone. "You're like a Gibbs clone, I swear." He let the elevator resume its course.

Ziva, thankfully, was back at her desk when he entered the squad room, but as soon as she saw him, she stood, no doubt intending to inquire about 'Melissa'. He decided to head her off.

"Enjoying the phone sex?" He grinned wolfishly.

"I fail to understand your country's fascination with this type of thing. What is the point of sex if you are not actually with someone?"

"Well, _Zee_-vah, some people have a little trouble actually finding someone who wants to be that close to them."

"Is that how you met Melissa?"

"Not a girlfriend, Ziva. Drop it." Tony was rapidly growing tired of the teasing. He opened his e-mail to see a message from M J Agency waiting. He opened it, making sure no one was around.

_Tony-_

_Your flight leaves at 1630. Tickets will be waiting. Grey will be accompanying you. Orange may be late._

_Don't call me Whitey._

Tony checked his watch. He had a couple of hours to pack and pick up the tickets before heading to the airport.

"McGee, try not to get into trouble while I'm gone. And don't let Ziva kill anyone unless they really, really deserve it."

"You're leaving?"

"Got something to take care of."

"We are in the middle of a case, Tony."

"And you two are gonna have to finish without me, Ziva." Tony tried not to enjoy too much the looks he was getting from his fellow Agents as he gathered his things and headed for the elevator.

xXxXx

Ziva was rarely at a loss for words, but she couldn't think of anything to say as she watched her partner leave. She slowly turned to McGee. "What was that all about?" McGee didn't answer, mainly because his jaw was still hanging down in shock. "You don't think-"

"Don't you two have something better to do?"

Ziva scrambled back to her seat as McGee shook himself, and turned once again to his computer.

"McGee!"

"None of the phone numbers are suspicious, Boss, and his mother doesn't know anything."

"Ziva."

"The Admiral's son made an appointment with one of the women from SexySex – very inventive. He never showed."

"Keep looking." Gibbs picked up his phone, dialing the switchboard. "Get me the head of Homicide in Philly." He ignored the questioning looks from his team. Thirty seconds later, a female voice came on the line.

"_You've reached Captain Bradford's office. How may I help you?"_

"This is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs from NCIS. I need to speak to Bill."

"_I'm sorry, sir, Captain Bradford isn't available. Would you like to leave a message?"_

"Tell him to call me." Gibbs was about to hang up, but changed his mind. "Wait!"

"_Yes, sir?"_

"Maybe you can answer my question. Have there been any leads on a cold case lately?"

"_I'm not sure I can give out that information, sir."_

"Look, I'm with NCIS. Naval-"

"_Criminal Investigative Service, yes sir, I know what it is."_

"Good, then you can tell me what I want to know."

"_I'll check, sir."_ There was a rustling of paper, and then the voice was back. _"Are you referring to the Jasper case, sir?"_

"Jasper – the serial killer?"

"_Yes, sir. Captain Bradford had me call an agent at NCIS about that case. Is that why you're calling?"_

"So it appears. What was the lead?"

"_A body was found this morning. The Captain believes it to be related to the Jasper case."_

Gibbs winced. No wonder Tony had been so insistent on going. "All right. Listen, have the agent you called, DiNozzo, call me when he gets there."

"_Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"_

Gibbs hung up in answer to her question. It looked like Tony's request was legitimate, but Gibbs couldn't ignore the small part of his gut that told him something else was going on.

"Boss? Uh…is something wrong?"

Gibbs frowned. "Yeah, McGee. This case isn't solved yet!" He reached for the witness statements, hoping to catch something new.

Tony would have to wait, for now.

oNCISo

_AN: I'm trying not to change too much, but honestly, there are just some things that had to go now that I know how it ends. _


	3. Jericho

Tony normally loved airports. All the different nationalities, the smells from the food court – he especially loved making up stories about the people who walked by. It was a favorite pastime for Abby and him. They had spent many a Saturday morning lounging in the waiting areas, eating breakfast and theorizing about where so many people could be going.

Today, however, Tony didn't have that luxury. Not only was he not with Abby (and dammit, now that he was thinking about her, he realized he hadn't told her he was leaving), but he was one of the throng rushing to get from one place to another. He had picked up the tickets relatively easily, and was now waiting for the others to arrive.

He felt a hand against his back pocket and turned quickly, ready to grab the thief. Instead, he was treated to an armful of curvaceous woman.

"Well, if I'd known that was all it took to get into your arms, my dear Green Fairy, I'd have tried to pick your pocket years ago."

Tony grinned at the blonde beauty he now held. "It would never work out between us, Lady Grey. No one would believe a high society girl like you would deign to grace the arm of a simpleton such as myself."

Erin Waters laughed, a musical sound that reached to the skylights above them. "Ever the charmer. I look awful, and you know it." She punched him lightly in the arm, then threw her arms around him. "It's good to see you again, Antonio."

"Are we really going to have this discussion again? It's Tony."

"Please, it's too much like The Godfather. If you're going to act like a member of the Italian mafia, you might as well be on the administrative end, not Grunt Number Three."

"Whatever," Tony said as he hoisted her bag onto his shoulder. "Got any other bags?"

"No, I had them transfer my luggage directly. Will Agent Orange be joining us?"

"You know he hates it when you call him that."

"Seeley needs to loosen up. So is he coming?"

Tony guided his companion to an escalator. "He's going to meet us at the gate. He called me about twenty minutes ago, actually, thought he was going to be late, but he got out of something early. Not sure what. You know, I was surprised to hear you would be here. Last I heard, you were still in London."

"It's a bloody miracle I was available. I finished my assignment yesterday, and was actually on my way here when I got the call about this latest crisis. We were headed for DC, and Whitey told me you were leaving from here, so I didn't bother diverting the jet to New York. I was having a lovely nap, too, but needs must, I suppose." She smiled tiredly. "At least I get to spend a bit more time with two of my favorite people."

"Gee, Greyhound, I never realized you felt that way about me."

Tony and Erin turned, quickly finding the owner of the slightly mocking voice. Seeley Booth was tall, and very well built, as evidenced by the glances he was getting from several women passing.

He was also very obviously either a member of law enforcement or a member of the military, despite the thin tie and non-regulation belt buckle. He looked quite menacing in the dark suit and shades.

Tony grinned. "No time to change?"

"Only had time to grab my go bag from home. Had to call my kid on the way here to cancel our plans for the weekend." Booth grimaced, and Erin frowned sympathetically. "I swear, that woman argues more than Rebecca ever did."

"Woman, Seeley?" Erin pounced on him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You neglected to mention that the last time we spoke."

"Calm down, Erin. Bones is my partner, and the reason I'm late. She wouldn't let me call in anyone else on this case we've been working." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing exaggeratedly.

They had reached the gate now, and sat down, waiting to board. Erin pulled out her iPhone and began working, talking all the while.

"Sounds like something more going on," she began, but put a hand up to forestall Booth's objections. "I promise not to pry."

"Stop the presses! Erin Waters has just sworn to do what was previously thought impossible!" Tony laughed as she punched him in the arm. "I'm kidding! Hey, I never asked, how'd you get Six to give you time off?"

Erin didn't look up from the screen. "Like I said, just finished with a rather difficult assignment. Told them if I didn't get back to my native country for some R&R, I'd go rogue and kill everyone."

"What'd they say?" asked Booth.

"Handed me the keys to the jet. Americans are notorious for carrying out their threats, you know. Of course, I wasn't expecting to be getting back into the thick of things right away. How'd you guys get the time off?"

Booth rested his feet on the seat opposite him. "Family emergency. The Director didn't really ask questions – probably glad to get rid of me for awhile."

"Causing trouble?"

"No more than usual. What about you, Tony?"

"I always cause trouble." He smiled as they rolled their eyes. "No, more like creative storytelling about a cold case. It was easier than I thought it would be."

Erin looked thoughtful. "That kind of thing can bite you in the ass. What if he checks your story?"

"The talented Miss White has it covered. Hopefully, this won't take that long."

"Speaking of," said Booth seriously, "does anyone know what this is about?"

The question was instantly sobering, and the group instinctively drew closer together.

"It's gotta be something big if everyone is getting called in. What's Ol' Blue Eyes been up to lately?"

Erin frowned. "I talked to him a few months ago. He was working on some project then, but surely they wouldn't put him under so long, would they?"

"_American Airlines Flight 1563 to JFK-New York is now boarding all first class passengers at Gate 10."_

"I guess we're about to find out," Tony said, gathering up his bag. "Let's go."

xXxXx

They arrived at JFK International as the sky was divesting itself of the last vestiges of light, picked up their bags, and then headed for the gentleman holding the 'Mark Jackson – Blue Chip Convention' sign. He looked slightly overwhelmed when Booth loomed over him, but Tony just smiled DiNozzo Number 37 (I'm friendly, can't you tell?), and Erin flirted with him, and soon they were all comfortably seated in the back of a van.

It was a relatively (allowing for traffic) quick drive up to 495, and then a short hop to the Jericho Turnpike. From there, Exit 106 to South Broadway and five minutes later, they were pulling up in front of 844 Manhattan Drive in Jericho, New York.

It was a quiet community, certainly out of the way, a place no one would ever suspect a secret organization would have a base of operations. This was Station Blue, a safe house set up by the MJ Agency for any emergency related to one Hamid Sakhar. They all had one, usually in some out of the way town that had vague connections to their leader, Mr. Black.

It was this enigmatic figure that met them at the door, ushering them in with a calm and gracious smile. He was never flustered, always the consummate host, and one of the most dangerous men Tony had ever met.

Black was the founder of _Modus Justi_, the agency that tried to provide a measure of justice for those it deemed worthy. Currently six members strong, they were strangers brought together by two common threads – law enforcement, and a connection to Black.

Tony had first met the man at Ohio State where he was guest lecturing on employment opportunities in the government. He had encouraged Tony's interest in criminal justice, and had provided a reference for Tony's entrance into the police academy.

It would be five years before they had any prolonged contact. Tony was working in Philadelphia, and had just come off a grueling undercover assignment. Black had invited him to spend a weekend fly-fishing in Canada with a group of select friends. Tony wasn't stupid – he suspected there would be more to it – but he was curious, so he agreed.

It was there he met the people who would become his closest confidants and friends. Black had quickly revealed his ulterior motive. He had created an organization designed to pool the resources of several agencies, without any outside interference. Their goal was to combat terrorism in all forms, furthering the goals of the United States in foreign affairs. One of the side benefits for members was the built-in support network, an ace in the hole for those on dangerous assignments.

Tony had been impressed, but he'd also been concerned. He knew inter-agency squabbling had brought about the downfall of many a good law enforcement officer, had allowed things to happen that could have been avoided if information had been shared. He wanted to be part of something bigger than himself, and he agreed with the mission Mr. Black presented. But he was also aware of the problems inherent in a rogue operation. There was a reason for bureaucracy – it provided oversight and kept agencies and men from going too far. In MJ, the buck literally stopped at Mr. Black. He was the primary financier, he set up the operations, he compiled all of the information.

Had he been older and already a part of NCIS, Tony liked to think he would have passed on the offer to join. But as a young officer, he was attracted by the opportunities Mr. Black made available to him. He was reassured by the strict code of conduct, and he was confident in his ability to get out if the rules of the game changed. It _was_ a legitimate organization, just so clothed in secrecy as to be virtually untraceable. He believed in the goal, but ultimately, he believed in the man behind it all. Mr. Black had convinced him of his integrity, and their work had already seen amazing results.

Tony left that weekend with the beginnings of strong friendships and a sense of purpose.

If ever Tony had believed he'd be part of a covert organization like this, he probably would have chosen different people. The membership had confused him at first. A former (though Tony seriously questioned that) NSA higher-up, a new Feebee in the narcotics division, a trainee on the Farm, a Baltimore Detective, a Philadelphia cop, and a really good secretary. They were an eclectic bunch, people Tony would never have met on his own, but Black understood people in a way Tony could only envy. He saw what they would become (and had probably orchestrated some of the career changes): a former NSA higher-up running his own agency, the (unfortunately now deceased) head of the narcotics division at the FBI, a top-notch undercover CIA agent, a member of the Secret Service, an NCIS senior field agent (after a few mishaps that culminated in taking Trista's job in Baltimore before being discovered by Gibbs), and a really good secretary with ties to the FSB.

Over time, new recruits were added. Brown had been a particularly spectacular find – Army Ranger, covert Unit member and CIA…whatever. Through Kyle (before he died), they had been introduced to Booth, former Sniper-turned-FBI agent with ties to the Jeffersonian Institute and their lab. Erin had been Black's protégé, and was attached to MI-6 in London as a liaison.

Anything that went on in the world, Black probably knew about it, which meant that White probably knew about it, too, since everything on his desk had been on hers first. Tony didn't understand Whitey, had no clue where Black had found her, but he knew enough that without her, their agency would have succeeded.

Alone, each member could inspire fear, or at least respect, in the most powerful of men. But together, they were unstoppable, and it was all due to Mr. Black.

So when Mr. Black called, they answered, and the next morning, Tony found himself sitting in the living room of a safe house in Jericho, New York, talking about rogue CIA agents recruited by known terrorists.

oNCISo


	4. Making Plans

"I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice. I realize that some of you have a more difficult time getting away," a quick glance at Tony by all, "and I really do appreciate your commitment. The situation that has been developing is getting more serious by the minute, and I'm afraid even Miss White and I do not yet have all the details. We shall endeavor, however, to provide you with the necessary means to avert this threat. Miss White?"

Mr. Black bowed slightly to his counterpart, moving away from the center of the group that had gathered in the den. It was a comfortable room, and had the added bonus of a projector and screen, which Miss White quickly utilized.

"Yesterday afternoon, at approximately 1326, Mr. Black received a squawk code from Mr. Blue, or as we know him, Hamid Sakhar. The message was as follows: 'Op Snow Dragon. NCIO. SAD.' Investigate Operation Snow Dragon. No contact. Search and destroy."

Search and destroy: military parlance for 'find and obliterate, leave no trace, don't expect to find me alive.' It wasn't exactly reassuring.

Booth leaned forward. "That's all he sent? How are we supposed to find him?"

"Should we even try?" Trista Kraven questioned gravely from the back of the room. "NCIO usually means no contact inside or out, which means contacting Hamid might compromise his position."

"Did he squawk a 76 or a 77?" Tony asked.

"77," Black answered. "Why?"

"It was a new system we talked about last time we got together. 7700 is just a general emergency. If he didn't want us to find him, he would have squawked a 7600 – lost communications." Tony rubbed his forehead. "Either way, he's in a lot of trouble. I want to be the one to make contact."

"We'll have to discuss that. Based on what we know right now, our hands are tied until he can tell us more. We have very limited information."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "What _do_ we know?"

Miss White directed their attention to the projector screen. "Six months ago, the Iranian government instituted a purge of their Ministry of Intelligence and Security. They do this every few years to rid themselves of weak agents, political dissidents or rogue members. Unfortunately, the purge was not entirely successful." Three pictures appeared on the screen, depicting three men. Two were of Middle Eastern descent, while the other was Caucasian. "Abdul al-Hazdin and Muhammad ibn Rashid were top-level MOIS operatives. Their loyalty, however, was apparently in question. They were supposed to be disposed of during the purge, but managed to escape with the help of Thomas Lincoln, whom all of you no doubt recognize."

Tony grimaced, and several of the others frowned. Trista let out a low growl. "I do not believe it."

Mr. Black spoke softly from the corner, though with no less power. "We have proof if you'd care to see it."

"Unlike before, you mean. You were very quick to judge him then, as well."

"We voted, Red." Tony raised his voice a little. "We couldn't be sure, and it looks like we were right not to trust him."

"I still say we shouldn't have driven him away," Trista muttered.

"What we did or did not do is of no consequence right now," Ms. White interjected. Tony nodded an apology to the room while Trista sat in stony silence. "These three individuals have been on a recruiting spree for the past few months. Hamid was one of their first."

"What are they recruiting for?" Booth wondered.

"Hamid believed they were trying to prove their worth to MOIS by getting an organization together in the United States. He recently came across information that suggested a coordinated attack against three U.S. cities, but we lost contact before he could tell us what they were. We called all of you in because when this goes down, it is going to be big, and we need everyone on deck."

Bob Brown spoke up for the first time since they had seated themselves. "Why didn't we hear about this sooner? I mean, this sounds like something the Unit should be taking care of, or one of the alphabet soups. This has been going on for months; surely someone would have gotten wise."

Tony snorted. "Sounds like typical CIA bullshit to me."

"The CIA knew about this almost from the beginning. They've been tracking Lincoln, which means they were able to red-flag al-Hazdin and Rashid. Unfortunately, they were already in the country. That's when they sent in Hamid."

"Back up," Tony interjected. "We know Lincoln is bad, and he knows we're onto him. He had to suspect we'd try to stop him. How did Hamid gain his trust?"

"Mr. Blue convinced Thomas that he had come to agree with his point of view. Thomas' associates were eager to have a CIA agent in their ranks, and the CIA allowed Hamid to pass certain information to Rashid and al-Hazdin. They believed Hamid had gained their trust."

"Obviously not," Bob said. "If they've lost contact with him, why aren't they scrambling around trying to find him?"

Mr. Black cleared his throat. "They didn't know."

Tony was dumbfounded. "They lose one of their best operatives on an incredibly dangerous assignment and they don't even have a fucking clue? Yeah, okay, so it's the CIA, but you'd think after everything, they'd at least be keeping tabs on him."

"They were. It would appear that Hamid's handler at the CIA has been in on this from the start. Until we discovered this information and passed it along to the proper channels, the CIA was unaware that there was a problem."

"And now they don't know what to believe," Tony realized. "They can't guarantee Hamid wasn't a double agent. They'll be so busy covering their asses, they won't be able to act on any of the information he gave them. Rashid and the others will be free to act."

"That is correct," Mr. Black stated.

"So what do we do?" Erin asked. There was a perceptible change in the room, as though everyone had suddenly come to attention.

"Miss White and I will be coordinating from here. Brown, I need you to get in touch with your contacts in the CIA, see if they have any other information they aren't sharing. I don't need to tell you to be discreet. Grey, get in touch with MI-6, I want to know about any operations MOIS has been developing. There's still a chance this is sanctioned by them. Red, you need to warn the Secret Service that there is a threat. We don't know the target cities or even if that's the real target, but make sure they tighten security around the President. Orange and Green – you're going to find Blue."

As Black gave out assignments, there was a chorus of 'yes, sir' and 'copy' and 'wilco'. There was an air of determination, and everyone knew that this was deadly serious.

"We'll get started this afternoon. For now, I believe some of you have phone calls to make."

xXxXx

Tony and Erin lounged in the kitchen, chatting idly and listening to Booth talk to his partner.

"Look, Bones, I told you it would be a few days."

"_You also told me you had familial obligations."_

"No, I told the FBI it was a family emergency. I told you that I had something to take care of."

"_And why couldn't I come with you?"_

Tony leaned over to Erin as Booth tried to explain the nature of the word 'no'. "You know, I think they should date. She obviously has him whipped."

Booth shot an angry glare at them as Erin answered. "I agree. Booth needs a woman like that."

"Bones, please do not give Harriman a hard time. He knows what he's doing, and it's just temporary. I promise I'll be back in a few days. Bones? Bones!" Booth was met with a dial tone, and Erin quickly grabbed the phone before it got smashed.

"And I thought my partner was controlling. I'm surprised she doesn't have you on a leash." Tony smirked, accepting the punch on the arm as a matter of course.

"You've got a leash of your own, DiNozzo. Shouldn't you be calling the office?"

"Yeah, yeah." Tony accepted the sat phone from Booth. He hesitated, then dialed Abby's lab.

"_Abigail Sciuto, forensic specialist extraordinaire. What's your poison?"_

"Hey Abby, it's me."

"_Anthony DiNozzo, I'm not speaking to you. You are in so much trouble! Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? Gibbs has been insufferable all day!"_

"For someone who isn't speaking to you, she sure talks a lot," Erin whispered, grinning.

Tony shushed her. "Yeah, I know Abs, but something came up, and I didn't have a lot of time. You're right, though, I should have made you my first priority. It won't happen again."

"_Darn right it won't. So, what can I do for you?"_ And just like that, she was her naturally cheery self.

"I'm just checking in. Is Gibbs there?"

"_Bossman just walked in. You two have incredible timing."_

"Hey, Boss."

"_DiNozzo. How's the case?"_

Tony grinned, knowing his boss was hoping to trap him into revealing something. Fortunately, Whitey had filled him in on the cover story. "The body could be one of Jasper's. Don't know what brought him out into the open again, but I have some theories."

"_Need some help?"_

"I'm good, Boss, but thanks. This might take a little longer than I originally planned, though."

"_Keep checking in."_

"Will do, Boss."

"_He left, Tony. So, how's Philly? Catching up with the guys in Homicide?"_

"Philly's fine, Abs. Don't have a lot of time for beers with the guys, though."

"_Tony, be careful. I'm getting a bad feeling."_

"Abby, I respect your feelings, you know I do, but I promise everything will be fine. How's the case?"

"_Horrible. Ziva and McGee aren't allowed to go home until they find a new lead. You know how Gibbs gets when you aren't here."_

Tony laughed, though he felt slightly guilty. "I'm sorry, Abs. Listen, I've gotta get going. I'll call back tomorrow, okay?"

"_Bye, Tony. Bring me presents!"_

Tony hung up, rolling his eyes as Erin and Booth burst out laughing.

"Tony, your coworkers are almost as crazy as mine," Booth gasped out.

Erin agreed. "Someday, I really hope I get to meet Abby."

"Maybe you will," Tony smiled, though he knew it was unlikely to ever happen. In order to maintain the integrity of the agency, Mr. Black insisted on a strict separation between MJ and regular life. It was a price that had to be paid for secrecy.

Tony shook himself out of his reverie. They had planning to do.


	5. Where the hell is DiNozzo?

Abby had been staring at the phone for close to an hour, willing it to ring. She was so fixated on it that she didn't notice McGee walking into her lab until he set a Caf-Pow! practically in her lap. She whirled around, and launched herself into her co-worker's arms.

"Tim! Thank God you're here."

McGee gently pushed Abby back onto the stool where she'd been sitting. "Good to see you too, Abby. Gibbs sent me down to see how the case-"

"Tony's gone!"

"Umm…yeah, I know, Gibbs did the whole angry thing, remember?"

"No, you don't understand. Tony's missing!"

McGee frowned. "What are you talking about, Abby?"

"He said he would call today, and he hasn't!" Abby was pacing, moving frenetically around her lab.

"Abs, he said he'd call in three days, which is today, and it's only been today for about twelve hours, so he's got time."

"I know, but when he says he'll call, he means the morning, because he knows how much I worry, and besides, I have a really bad feeling about this."

McGee was used to Abby's feelings. It was always better to just go with the flow. "Abby, it could be anything. Did you try calling him?"

"He didn't answer."

That was slightly disconcerting, but Tony had been known to ignore calls before, especially lately. "He's working on a pretty important case, Abby. I'm sure he's fine."

"I had a nightmare last night." She had stopped pacing, and was now standing perfectly still, a frightened expression on her face.

McGee didn't like the sound of that. Abby's nightmares couldn't be ignored – not since Kate. Still, he wasn't willing to take the leap just yet. "What was it about?"

Abby sat, hugging her knees to her chest. "Tony and I were at a club. I turned around for a few seconds, and when I looked back, he was gone! I searched everywhere, but I couldn't find him. I ran outside to the alley, and Tony was laying there in one of his expensive suits with blood all over him! His eyes were open, but he wouldn't look at me. He kept saying it was my fault that he was missing, and I tried to get him to look at me, but he wouldn't! It was horrible!"

McGee sat down next to her, hesitant to do more than pat her on the arm. "Shh…it's okay, Abs." She pulled back, curling into a tight ball of misery. Dark mascara was running down her face, and McGee knew then that he'd have to do something to make her feel better.

"Abs, look at me." He waited for her to comply. "You're sure about this?"

She nodded.

"Let's go talk to Gibbs."

xXxXx

Gibbs, it turned out, had been experiencing a similar twinge in his gut that had nothing to do with a lack of coffee, and everything to do with his Senior Field Agent. He'd had a bad feeling about this since Tony had asked for time off, and it was wreaking havoc on his ability to concentrate.

So when Abby showed up with a mystified McGee trailing after her, he knew he had to settle the matter once and for all. He had the phone dialed before they reached his desk.

"_Homicide, Captain Bradford's office."_

The hairs on the back of Gibbs' neck stood straight up. Different voice. "I need to speak with Bill."

"_May I ask who is calling?"_

"Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS."

"_One moment."_ There was a slight _pop_ as the line was transferred, and then Bradford came on. _"Jethro! I hope you're not stealing more of my Detectives."_

"Still haven't completely trained the last one, Bill. That's why I'm calling."

"_DiNozzo giving you trouble? Please say yes, because I'll take him back. Hell, word on the street is I'd have to stand in line to get that boy to work for me."_

"He's not in Philly?"

"_No, though not for lack of trying."_

"What about the Jasper case?"

"_He called a few days ago to have our semi-annual chat about the lack of leads. He had a good idea, and we've been following up, but when I asked him to come out here, he said he was in the middle of a case there."_

"What about the body?"

"_What body? We fished one out of a pool a while back, but it didn't have anything to do with DiNozzo. Jethro, what's going on?"_

"That's what I'm trying to figure out, Bill. I'll call you when I do." He hung up, sitting back in his chair.

Abby, who had been listening in, wrapped her arms tightly around McGee, who looked startled. Ziva left her desk to stand near them.

"Where would Tony go? And why would he lie about it?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the Director," McGee theorized.

"This feels different."

"He didn't lie." Gibbs said.

"Boss?"

"He didn't lie, McGee. Everything he said was true. He just made it sound like he was saying something he wasn't, and I fell for it." Gibbs scowled. "Ziva, what happened before Tony came down to see me on the day he left?"

Ziva walked over to her partner's desk. "He received a phone call from Melissa Jones at BlueRay Security. He was very upset that I had answered his phone. I thought it was a new girlfriend."

"McGee!" Gibbs barked.

"Checking it out, Boss." He extricated himself from Abby, and began a search on his computer. "There's no record of a BlueRay Security anywhere in Maryland or Virginia."

"Melissa Jones?"

McGee checked. "Boss, there are hundreds in the DMV database. It's a pretty common name."

"Airlines?"

Abby had commandeered Tony's computer to do the search. "He's not on any flight records, and I checked the trains, too. He hasn't used any of his credit cards in the last 72 hours. He's completely off the grid, Gibbs."

Gibbs frowned. "Ziva, McGee, go check his apartment. Abby, keep running searches, see if he surfaces."

Ziva and McGee grabbed their gear and headed out. Abby turned forlornly to Gibbs.

"What if something happened, Gibbs?"

"We'll find him, Abs," Gibbs said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Go see what you can find out."

Gibbs watched her leave, and then headed for MTAC. He wasn't completely convinced that Jenny didn't have something to do with this. He was stopped halfway up the stairs by the ringing from his cell phone.

"Gibbs."

"_If you want to see Special Agent DiNozzo alive again, be in Baltimore in two hours. Tell no one."_

"Who is this?" Gibbs demanded.

"_Not important."_

"Where in Baltimore?"

There was a soft chuckle. _"Know any good coffee shops?"_

xXxXx

Gibbs didn't like following orders from someone he knew nothing about (hell, he didn't like following orders, period), but he also didn't like not know what was going on, which was why he found himself throwing money to a cabbie outside the Barista Espresso Café in Baltimore. It wasn't his type of coffee joint, but it was where DiNozzo had taken him after their first case together when Tony was still a cop. It worried him that whoever had Tony knew such a small detail from their past.

Gibbs wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he was pretty sure the two hulking, vaguely military figures leaning against the dark sedan in front of the shop were there for him.

Sure enough, as soon as one spotted him, he nudged the other and nodded. The one in the expensive suit with the broad shoulders walked around the car and got in the driver's seat. The other one, solidly built but more relaxed in tan pants and a button down shirt, opened the back seat and gestured for Gibbs to get in, and then sat beside him in the back seat.

"I'm going to give you the chance to disable any tracking or listening devices, because I'm nice like that."

The driver grinned slightly. "Failure to deactivate such devices will result in my friend back there becoming not so nice."

Gibbs stared stonily at them, silently refusing to respond.

The driver sighed. "Figures we'd be the ones stuck with a Marine. Leathernecks and rockheads, the lot of 'em. No sense of humor."

Back-seat guy laughed. "Not that it matters." He turned to Gibbs. "Any devices you might have had were rendered inert as soon as you stepped into the vehicle. Sit back and enjoy the ride." He looked at the driver again. "Rangers all the way."

"Hell yeah!"

Gibbs sighed. There was a reason he worked for the Navy. "Any chance you're going to tell me what's going on?"

The driver merged into traffic on the highway. "We need your help."

Gibbs was more than a little surprised by that, and decided to push a little further. "Where's DiNozzo?"

The two men exchanged a glance, and Gibbs could tell he'd struck a nerve. "What did you do to him?"

His friend in the back seat crossed his arms. "The Boss will explain everything when we get there."

The rest of the trip was made in silence until they pulled up in front of an apartment building downtown. Gibbs got out, flanked by the two men. The driver glanced at the other man.

"Can you take care of the car? I need to talk to Mr. Black."

"Wilco."

The driver took Gibbs arm, holding it firmly, though not uncomfortably. "Let's go," he said to Gibbs.

They took the elevator to the top floor, where they entered a rather spacious condominium. Gibbs was pointed to a chair while his escort fussed with the flat screen television. Gibbs didn't know what he had done, but after a few minutes, a woman's face appeared on the screen. It was a video conference, and the camera slowly zoomed out to take in what looked like a living room.

The woman nodded to Gibbs.

"Special Agent Gibbs, I apologize for my rather abrupt nature on the phone. We're all a bit on edge right now."

Gibbs recognized the voice as the one he'd heard when he thought he was calling Philly, and then again as the one ordering him to Baltimore. This whole thing was rapidly becoming more complicated.

The driver stepped up to the camera. "Brown will be here in a few minutes. We haven't had any further contact with Green or Blue. Are you sure this is what you want?"

A tall, somewhat portly man stepped forward. "We have no choice. Special Agent Gibbs, I realize you have many questions, but I'm afraid we have some business to take care of first." He turned to the brown-haired woman who had spoken to Gibbs. "Miss White, what have you found?"

"My contacts in the FSB were decidedly unhelpful, but I spoke with Director David at Mossad this morning. They tried to get an agent into the recruiting program, but he was discovered and executed. David sent all the information he has, I'm still going through it."

"Miss Grey?"

"MI-6 swears MOIS had nothing to do with this. Their attention has been focused on Iraq, and our contact seemed genuinely surprised that something was developing in the States."

"Miss Red?"

"Security in Washington has been increased, and the President has canceled two events in less-secure areas."

"Mr. Brown, were you able to get anything from the CIA?"

Gibbs saw the man who had traveled with him enter the room. "I got the file on the handler. I also got the unofficial file they've been compiling. Apparently, the CIA had concerns about him before. They are still on the fence about Blue, so don't expect much help from them. I also spoke with the Colonel. Most of the teams are on deployment, but we have three members on stand by."

"Good to know. Special Agent Gibbs, allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Black, founder of the MJ Agency."

Gibbs was slightly overwhelmed. He was fully aware that the run-down had been for his benefit, but really – these people had personal contact with the alphabet soup of the world, and he'd never heard anything about them. He filed away the comment about the Director of Mossad, and focused on Black. "Who are you people, and what the hell have you done with my Agent?"

"_Modus Justi_ was founded several years ago as an anti-terror unit, and as a last line of defense for its members. Since then, we have expanded somewhat. We gather intelligence from our various contacts, most of which we pass along to the appropriate authorities. There are times, however, when that is not an option. This is one of those times."

Gibbs didn't like the sound of this. "You operate outside the law?"

Black smiled. "We are the law to some extent. Everything we do is to protect this nation. I assure you, Special Agent Gibbs, what we do is vitally important."

"What does this have to do with DiNozzo?"

"Special Agent DiNozzo is a member of our organization."

If Gibbs had been surprised before, he was shocked at this piece of news. "How long?" he managed to choke out.

"A little over nine years, now."

So before he had come to work for Gibbs. How, in all this time, had he missed something like that? Sure, he'd missed the thing with Jeanne, but he'd been off his game then. He entertained the idea for a moment that this was a practical joke, or the result of a _really_ bad night of drinking, but he dismissed it immediately. It was just too farfetched for it to be anything but the truth.

"I realize this comes as a bit of a shock, Special Agent Gibbs, but we really do need your help. Mr. Orange, if you please."

The man had been standing slightly behind Gibbs, but now he took a seat to his right, so he faced both Gibbs and the camera.

"Tony and I came to Baltimore a couple days ago to track down a fellow agent. Mr. Black can fill you in on the details. This was our guy's last known location, so we went to his safe house. When we got there, the place was a mess, looked like a tornado had gone through there. We were about to call it a lost cause when Tony found something. He and Blue were always talking about different codes, and it's a good thing Tony was there, because I would never have figured it out. We were just about to leave when we see Lincoln and a couple other guys, who decided it was a good day for a gunfight. We split up to make it harder for them. That was the last time I saw him." He held up a small piece of paper. "This morning, I found this note slid under my hotel door, addressed to Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

"Hang on. Let's ignore for the moment the fact that you _left_ him. What have you been doing for the last two days? Have you even tried to find him?" Gibbs asked angrily.

Orange scowled, but Black broke in before he could say anything. "I assure you, we have made every effort to locate Mr. Green. We are taking his absence very seriously."

Gibbs tried to hide the cringe at the barely veiled insult. He should have known Tony was in trouble. It should never have gotten this far.

Black continued. "We are operating under the assumption that Mr. Green is still alive, but has a reason for not contacting us. Mr. Orange, tell him the rest."

The tall man faced Gibbs. "Before we separated, he said he knew where Blue was holed up. As soon as he got rid of his tail, I'm sure he tried to find him. They could be anywhere by now."

"Which is why we need you, Special Agent Gibbs," Black explained. "It would appear from his note that he would rather speak to you."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "How do you even know Tony left that note?"

"We don't. But it is certainly his style. We were hoping you can translate it."

Gibbs took the note, immediately understanding what they meant. He chuckled quietly.

_I came to America in 1914 - by way of Philadelphia. That's where I got off the boat. And then I came to Baltimore._

oNCISo

_Blue: Hamid Sakhar (the guy they're trying to find)_

_Green: Tony (our favorite NCIS agent!)_

_Orange: Seeley Booth (FBI agent from Bones)_

_Brown: Bob Brown (member of the Unit)_

_Black: leader of MJ (he's got a name, I'm just not telling)_

_White: secretary for MJ (she doesn't have a name)_

_Grey: Erin Waters (MI-6)_

_Red: Trista Kraven (Secret Service)_


	6. I'm So Confused!

oNCISo

_I don't know what's worse,_ Tony thought as he sat above the small diner, looking out the window. _Getting in trouble for making Gibbs come and save me, or getting in trouble for not telling him about MJ. _

Tony grimaced, and took a sip of his coffee. It wasn't really a difficult choice. Gibbs always had his six, but he was going to kill Tony for keeping something like this a secret.

_Won't be long now_. Tony glanced at the clock: 1906. Or, as Tony liked to call it, 7:06 pm in normal-people time.

Sure enough, eight minutes later, he spotted the silver-haired agent walking down the street. He watched him enter the diner, then waited to make sure he hadn't been followed. He took the stairs slowly, working to mask the turmoil he felt.

He spotted Gibbs in one of the booths. He was facing the door, so it was relatively easy to sneak up behind him.

"I'm impressed, Gibbs. And here I thought you never paid attention to my movie references."

Gibbs didn't even flinch. "You practically worship at the altar of Levinson, DiNozzo. I wouldn't be much of an investigator if something didn't sink in after the fiftieth time."

"You gotta admit…the whole Baltimore trilogy was frickin' awesome," Tony affirmed.

"The way you jumped at my job offer, you'd think you hated this place."

Tony sobered instantly. Gibbs wasn't playing fair, and he knew it. "Are we really going to do this right now?"

Gibbs turned to face him. "You should have told me."

"Didn't think I'd be at NCIS this long." Tony didn't bother pretending he didn't know what Gibbs was talking about. He slid into the booth. "Besides, it's against the rules."

"Then why am I here now?"

"I needed someone who knew the area."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "DiNozzo, you've got the FBI, NSA, MI-6, Secret Service, CIA and probably God himself backing you up! You need a better reason than that."

"You told me to call."

The quiet explanation silenced Gibbs for a moment. Tony played with the napkin dispenser while he waited for his boss to speak.

"You didn't think I'd come."

Tony shrugged. "I was pretty sure you would. You're not exactly an easy man to figure out, though. And after Jeanne… Anyway, I wasn't sure Orange-"

"Can we quit with the damn colors?" Gibbs cut in gruffly.

Tony scowled at him. "I tell you their names, you're in too deep."

"DiNozzo. You brought me in. Just talk."

Tony had the grace to look faintly ashamed, but he just continued. "Fine. I wasn't sure _Booth_ would get the note to you."

"Oh, he got it to me alright. But not before I had to go through a dog and pony show from your precious Agency."

"I should have known Black would try to take over. I assume he wanted to come with you."

"Practically begged. Set one of his dogs on me, but I shook him off a while ago. What's Black's game?"

"He's been looking for an opportunity to get you involved with the Agency. He asked me last year, but I didn't want to get you involved. But I guess I did that, anyway. He knew you'd come if I got into trouble." Tony sighed. "I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know where else to go."

Gibbs nodded, and then abruptly pounded a fist into the counter, making the waitress jump a little as she passed. "Dammit, Tony! I don't like being played. What the hell is going on?"

"I can't tell you-"

Gibbs grabbed Tony by the arm, pulling him closer. "I didn't come here to get the runaround, DiNozzo!"

Tony breathed in sharply, trying to hide the grimace of pain at Gibbs' grip. He wrenched his arm away. "You didn't let me finish, Gibbs! I was saying that I can't tell you everything here! You're good, but so is Black. I'd like to be sure he's not looking over my shoulder." He stood, angrily throwing down a few bills.

Gibbs stood as well, feeling slightly ashamed. He knew he was being a bastard, but he was getting tired of not knowing the score.

He caught a flash of red, and he grabbed Tony's arm again, this time gripping him by the wrist. There was a growing spot of red where he'd been holding the man's bicep. His eyes quickly found Tony's, holding them as he asked the silent question.

Tony looked away. "I'll explain everything, Boss. But can we get out of here first?"

xXxXx

_52 hours earlier_

Tony climbed out of the dark sedan, slipping on his shades as he surveyed the building before him. The drive from New York had been long enough that he should have been able to snag a few hours of sleep, but he and Booth had spent the time going over various scenarios of what they might find. As a consequence, Tony was feeling the strain.

"This place is a dump," Booth commented as they walked in.

"Probably part of his cover. Nobody cares what goes on." Tony hit the button for the fourth floor, and a few minutes later they had picked the lock of room 427, going in with guns drawn.

The apartment was a mess. The floor was littered with books, papers and various bits of furniture, and there were several fist-sized holes dotting the walls. Tony checked the rooms in the back before joining Booth in the living room.

"Guess we're not the only ones looking for him," Booth remarked dryly.

Tony glanced around. "I don't think all of it was done by Lincoln and the others."

Booth frowned. "What do you mean? Blue did this himself?"

"At least some of it. He knew he was in trouble," Tony replied. He sifted through a pile of trash in the corner, picking up a pizza box. "He got the message off to Black and then tossed the place. Got rid of anything that might point to where he would go."

"So how do we find him?"

"Fortunately, we know him slightly better than Lincoln. He left us a clue." Tony smiled triumphantly, holding up a flyer for a Thai restaurant he'd found stuck to the bottom of the pizza box.

"That's a clue?" Booth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He knew I'd be here," Tony said, poking around the room further. "We've come up with a few different methods for passing messages." He stopped by the window and glanced out.

"A flyer in a pile of trash?"

Tony didn't reply. When he'd glanced out the window, he'd caught sight of a dark car in the alley. The car didn't worry him as much as the men getting out of it, though. "We've got trouble."

Booth joined him at the window and Tony pointed at the lead man.

"Oh, this is not good." Booth swore softly. "What the hell is Lincoln doing here?"

"They must have been watching the place and saw us come in." Tony pulled his gun again. "Listen, we need to split up. You take the car," he said.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to find Blue." Tony folded the flyer and put it into his pocket. "Call Black, tell him what's going on. Good luck." He waited for Booth's reluctant nod, and then checked the hallway. They went in opposite directions, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Tony took them three at a time, jumping the last few steps as he reached the first floor.

Lincoln and his friends were waiting in the lobby. They were trying to be inconspicuous as they watched for their prey. Tony waited a few seconds and then burst out the door, heading for the back alley. He heard the men shouting as he saw Booth running out the front.

He had just reached the end of the alley when he heard three shots, and a sharp pain lanced through his arm. He grabbed at it and saw blood, but he kept running. He didn't stop until he was several blocks away. He ducked into an abandoned building, trying to catch his breath.

He pulled off his jacket with a grimace, swearing as his muscles were stretched. It was a through-and-through, still bleeding sluggishly. He sighed.

"Why is it always me? I swear, if Abby's playing with voodoo dolls again…" He pulled on his jacket and left the building, walking slowly so he could spot anyone following him. When he figured it was safe, he pulled the flyer he'd found at Hamid's place from his back pocket, and dialed the number with the disposable cell phone he used when he was with the Agency.

"_Ban Thai."_

"Yeah, I'm calling about an order placed for a Mr. Green."

There was a slight pause, and then a new voice came on the line. _"You are Mr. Green?"_

"I am. I believe Mr. Blue called ahead." Tony crossed his fingers, waiting for the reply.

"_Very good. Your order will be ready in two hours. You'll need to pick it up."_

"I understand. Thank you." Tony hung up. He had two hours to kill before meeting up with Blue. He thought about calling Booth, or even Black, but something stopped him. He hailed a cab, going first to a drugstore for supplies, then directing the cabbie to a small apartment he owned in the city. It was under a different name, and only two people knew about it. Both of them were currently out of the country.

When the time came, he walked to the Ban Thai restaurant, loitering across the street until he saw a dark-skinned man wearing a Yankees hat and jacket enter. He waited a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the street, and then crossed the street.

The restaurant was sparsely lit, and there were very few people inside. He gave the name Green to the hostess, who took him to the back of the restaurant. He sat in the booth, and looked over the menu, remaining conscious of what went on around him. He looked up as the man he'd followed slid into the booth across from him.

"I knew you'd figure it out."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You hate Thai food."

"Does it matter?"

"Guess not. What's all this about, Hamid?"

Hamid Sakhar pulled off his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his short black hair. He looked worn down.

"Can I trust you?"

Tony frowned. "What the hell kind of question is that? The whole Agency has been running around frantically trying to find you. I got shot, for God's sake!"

"Keep your voice down," Hamid said calmly. "We're in some deep shit, yeah, but take it easy." He made a face. "You got shot?"

"Lincoln was waiting at your place."

Hamid nodded. "They were there yesterday." He sighed. "Tony, we have got serious problems."

"Your message didn't say a whole heck of a lot."

"I know. I wasn't sure if I could trust the Agency with more."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Can we quit with the cryptic? Lay it out for me."

"I think there is a spy in the Agency."

"Bro, I don't know how to tell you this, but we got a lot of 'em. Including you."

"Just listen!" Hamid waited for Tony to quiet. "I think someone is passing on messages to Lincoln and the others."

Tony frowned. "We'll get to that. First, I want you to tell me what is going on. Why would you even take this job knowing Lincoln was involved? You know what he's like. He should have killed you the moment he saw you."

"Thanks a lot. Yes, I know him, so I knew how to play him. I played up to his ego, told him I had seen the light, knew I should have backed him up before. It would have worked, too, if my handler hadn't been dirty."

"There's another question. They knew you were a double agent from the start. Why did they let you in?"

"I can only assume it has something to do with Tom. Maybe he wanted to believe I was telling the truth. Maybe he's playing some other game," Hamid frowned. "Either way, I only knew I was in trouble when I went to meet my handler and nearly got blown up instead. I sent the message to Black, then got the hell out of Dodge."

"I'm assuming this spy you mentioned is the reason you didn't come in."

"I've been monitoring communications to and from Rashid, al-Hazdin and Lincoln since this started. Most of it was pretty standard chatter, but Lincoln's was more interesting. He was getting the Daily Report."

Tony sucked in a breath. The Daily Report was sent to all members of MJ by Mr. Black. He updated them on various threats, the whereabouts of other members and other crucial information. It was highly encrypted, only accessible by members of MJ, and not to be shared with anyone unless permission was granted. Lincoln wouldn't have it unless one of their own had given it to him. "Who?"

Hamid sighed. "I don't know. I have my suspicions, but until I can prove it, I can't trust anyone – except you."

Tony wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just nodded. "While I appreciate that, I feel compelled to point out that we have an even bigger problem. Those three cities you mentioned, for example?"

"Baltimore, St. Louis and Las Vegas. Rashid and al-Hazdin left the States two days ago, but they've got people in each city, ready and waiting. I know when and where it's all going down. We can stop this."

"But to stop it, we need to trust someone – a lot of someones," Tony pointed out. "We have to coordinate the strikes so they don't get wise to what is happening."

Hamid nodded. "That's why I brought you in. I'm tired, and I'm out of ideas."

"How much time do we have?" Tony asked.

"Four days."

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do."

xXxXx

_Present_

"We've spent the last two days working up a plan, but to make it work, we needed someone we could trust absolutely. I slipped Booth the note, and the rest is history. Now you know everything," Tony finished. He and Gibbs had been sitting in the park for the past hour while Tony explained everything.

"Everyone in the Agency knows about me now. How do we draw out this spy?"

"I wasn't counting on everyone knowing you were here. But we can still make it work."

Gibbs sat quietly, mulling everything over in his mind. This whole thing was crazy.

"DiNozzo, do you always have to make everything so complicated?"

Tony smiled. "It's part of my charm." He stood, stretching. "Come on. Hamid is waiting, and we have things to do."

oNCISo

_AN: Tony's clue is the first line of the movie _Avalon_, by Barry Levinson. Levinson did a Baltimore trilogy, which is also where the diner comes in. _


	7. That's the Plan

oNCISo

There was something about rain that was just soothing. Tony had always loved the soft sound of raindrops, loved the way the lightening forked as it lit the sky. He had spent countless hours as a child playing in the rain, losing himself in the vastness of his family's estate. The first time he had done so, he'd gotten in trouble – first for disappearing without telling anyone where he was going, and then for tracking mud throughout the house. He'd been more careful after that, but it hadn't dulled the sheer joy he felt every time it rained.

There was little time to enjoy it now, though. The non-stop action of the last few days had taken its toll, but there was still plenty left to do. Tony was finally beginning to realize the implications of the threat Hamid had outlined. It was one thing to say that Baltimore, St. Louis and Las Vegas were going to be blown up unless it could be stopped. It was quite another to know that you were the one responsible for actually stopping it.

He glanced out the window again, just in time to see Hamid get out of a cab below. He was alone, which meant that their plan thus far was going perfectly.

_Too bad it's the easiest part of it_, Tony thought.

He, Gibbs and Hamid had talked through their options over the last day, discarding one idea after another. After much discussion, they were fairly certain they knew who the spy was, and they had incorporated that information into their plans. It was agreed that Black and the others had to be told about what was going on, but not about the spy. There was just no way the three of them could take down the terrorists in the three cities on their own. For one thing, they needed enough people to coordinate the strikes. For another, they had less than a day to do everything that needed to be done, and they had no backup from any other agency. Gibbs had suggested to Tony in private that they bring in Ziva and McGee, but Tony wasn't comfortable with the rest of the team knowing his secret. They would be held in reserve if needed, but Tony didn't anticipate their involvement.

It had finally been decided that they would split up. All that was left was to fill in the rest of the agency on the plan.

Tony finally left the window when Hamid entered the apartment, dripping water all over the floor.

"He's on his way," Hamid reported.

"Good. Booth and Brown should be here shortly, and then we can call Black." Tony bit his lip. "Are we set with the other stuff?"

"I made contact," Hamid nodded. Fatigue was evident in his voice. "Tony, I just found out that Lincoln is going to be here when everything goes down."

Tony looked away from his friend's penetrating gaze. That old wound was best left unopened for the time being. "We knew that was a possibility."

"This could complicate things."

Tony snorted a laugh. "So what else is new? We're trying to keep three cities from blowing to kingdom come, and you think one more wrinkle is going to make things any more complicated?"

Hamid grinned. "Well, I guess when you put it like that…"

They paused as the buzzer sounded a short pattern that they both instantly recognized. Tony pushed the button to unlock the door.

"I guess this is it."

Booth and Brown arrived a few minutes later, both giving Hamid big grins and backslaps to show how happy they were to see him. Tony took Brown aside for a moment while Hamid got the equipment set up and put in a call to Black. They returned as the call came through, revealing the rest of the team in the den of the Jericho home.

Black smiled slightly as he saw the group. "Mr. Blue, it is a pleasure to see you alive and well. And likewise, Mr. Green."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, what do we need to do?"

Tony stepped up as Hamid gestured toward him. "We've been able to confirm the sites for the attack. The targets are St. Louis, Las Vegas and here in Baltimore. They've got enough nuclear material to destroy a good portion of the surrounding areas as well. We're going to need three teams. Hamid can provide the locations for where you will find the staging areas."

"We need to work fast. This is going to happen tomorrow," Hamid added.

Booth and Brown raised their eyebrows in synch. Tony bit his lip. "Look, I know you all have questions, but we're running out of time."

Black nodded. "I realize the situation, but I do have one question that needs to be answered now. Where is Agent Gibbs?"

Tony exchanged a glance with Hamid. "He's on his way to St. Louis."

"Please explain."

"Gibbs knows what's going on. We decided to put him in charge of one of the teams, and he went on ahead to take care of some things. Hamid is going to be leading the team in Vegas. I'll be staying here in Baltimore."

"I'm assuming Mr. Orange and Mr. Brown will be staying with you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trista's mouth open to object, but he ignored it as he fixed the agency head with a defiant stare.

"No."

Black narrowed his eyes, and there was whispering between the agents.

"I need Brown in St. Louis with whoever he can pull out of his Unit. Booth is staying with me, and Trista'll join us. Erin, you're with Hamid in Vegas. Black, I know you don't normally get involved, but it would help if you could join them. White, I need you to coordinate everything in the home office. We need you to monitor communications so our targets can't get anything out and warn the others."

Tony studied his two new team members while he spoke. Neither of them seemed to have a problem with the arrangements.

"Are you sure we've got enough people?" Erin asked.

"Hamid says there are four guys at most in each city. The rest have all been making their way out of the country over the last two weeks. I'm fairly certain we've all been trained for this type of situation. With the proper planning, we'll be fine. Besides, once we contain the original threat, we can get our various agencies in here to mop up."

"Tony," Black cut in. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this set-up."

"I've already spoken to Bob. He's going to keep an eye on Gibbs. The rest of it is just logic." Tony looked intensely at the agency leader. "Trust me."

Black gave him a questioning look, then acceptance creased his features. He nodded. "All right. Miss White, flight arrangements. Everyone else – gear up."

Hamid cut the feed, and then crossed the room until he was in front of Tony. "You're sure this is how you want to play things?" He asked softly.

Tony glanced at Booth, who was checking the clip on his gun, and then at Brown, who looked completely relaxed and deadly at the same time as he gave instructions to his Unit over the phone.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Okay then." Hamid held out his hand, which Tony took. "Good luck, my man. You're going to need it."

Tony grinned briefly. "Same to you."

They swept the apartment, removing all traces of their presence. Even if Tony did own it, they couldn't afford any problems right now, and it never hurt to be cautious.

Hamid gave Tony and Booth directions to an ammo dump in the city he'd set up as backup. Then the four of them took a cab to the airport, where Hamid and Brown picked up their tickets to Las Vegas and St. Louis, respectively. Hamid left first, but Tony pulled Brown aside again before he boarded.

"Are you sure you can handle this?"

Brown rolled his eyes. "Not my first barbeque, friend. Twenty bucks says my area is secure first and cleaner than yours."

Tony laughed. "No bet. You'll probably be in and out of the city without anyone knowing you were there."

"Sounds about right." He frowned. "Are _you_ sure you can handle this?"

"We're about to find out, aren't we?" Brown just gave him a look. "I know what I'm doing, okay? Get in, get out, most ricky-tick, right?"

"Do me a favor, Tony. Stick to your day job." Brown winked, and then headed for his gate, leaving Booth and Tony to wait for Trista to arrive.

They sat in the food court for an hour, talking about anything but the operation. Tony found out more about Dr. Temperance Brennan, Booth's partner at the Jeffersonian. He silently vowed that she and Ziva would never meet. Booth listened jealously to Tony's description of Abby, complaining that Tony's "squint" was much better than his own group of geeks.

When Trista's flight got in, they picked her up at the gate, their badges getting them past the security checkpoint.

Trista was all business when she saw them. "White says we're moving at 0400 tomorrow. Communications are being monitored and will be cut as soon as we go in."

"Good to know. We should get a call as soon as everyone is on station." Tony assessed his two colleagues. "Right then, we've got some work to do before tomorrow."

They left the airport and checked into a cheap motel not far from the Baltimore Harbor. Their bomb was set to go off in one of the abandoned warehouses there. On the drive, Tony filled them in on what he knew and answered their questions. The motel was a dive, two stories with chipped paint and questionable stains on the floor. From their room, however, they could watch the ships entering and leaving the harbor. Trista stayed there while Booth and Tony went to Hamid's backup site and loaded up on ammo and weapons. They also got vests and night vision goggles.

They still had a few hours before they had to get set up, so Tony suggested Booth and Trista get some sleep while he did some recon of the area. Booth didn't think it was a good idea, but didn't stop Tony from leaving.

Tony didn't go far. He went to the ground level and knocked on the door to room 17, which opened slightly after a pause, in which Tony heard the distinct _click_ of a safety being released.

"It's me."

The door opened further, and Tony slid in, shutting the door behind him before turning to face his Boss.

"Well?" Gibbs put his gun back on the bedside table and sat in a chair next to the window, glancing out every now and then.

Tony flopped on the bed. "Everyone is getting into position. Trista and Booth are in the room upstairs."

"When do we go?"

"0400. You'll need to be in place before then."

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Any signs so far?"

Tony shook his head. "Nothing. That's what gets me about this whole thing. What's the motivation?"

"I'd be more worried about how long it's been going on."

"Hamid was pretty sure they don't know we're coming."

"Pretty sure?"

"Ninety percent."

"That's reassuring."

Tony sighed. Gibbs was probably right about this. Heck, no doubt about it. Gibbs was right about everything. "We'll just have to be extra careful. Anyway, that's what you're here for, right?"

Gibbs didn't reply, just resumed his surveillance out the window.

Tony flipped on the TV, his face brightening when he came across a rerun of Magnum P.I.

"Did you get a hold of Abby?"

"She was appropriately happy to hear you weren't dead. I can't say the same for the others."

"What did I do?"

"Ziva and McGee went through your apartment."

The seeming non-sequiter made Tony wince. "Please tell me you didn't."

"You were missing. We investigated. It's what we do."

"Yeah, but did you have to send them? Ten bucks says it'll make McGeek's next book, and Ziva is going to keep asking questions about what they found."

Gibbs smiled slightly. "She didn't find everything."

That brought a small grin to Tony's face as well. So, the great Officer David, trained Mossad assassin had missed a few of the surprises Tony had stored in his apartment.

"I hope they realize this isn't an open invitation to visit."

"It's about time someone else got to see it. You can't keep them out forever."

Tony sighed. It was cliché, but there was some truth to the saying that a man's kingdom was his home. He didn't have much, but what he did have was private, sacred. Gibbs hadn't given him much choice about gaining entrance into Tony's domain, but by that time, Tony hadn't really minded. Much.

The problem was the rest of the team. He didn't make a big deal out of it, which was why he never got called on it, but no one – _no one_ – was allowed into the apartment without Tony's express permission. Thus far, that privilege had been granted only to Gibbs, Ducky, Abby and Erin.

Tony realized Gibbs was still staring at him. He looked away, concentrating instead on Tom Selleck as he made friends with a shark. "I like my privacy."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but dropped the matter, his eyes going back to the window. After a minute, he sat forward, intent on something outside. "How long did you say you'd be gone?"

"I didn't. I figured on another half hour. Why?"

"Because a member of your team has decided to go for a jaunt of their own."

Tony scrambled to the window. When he saw who it was, he swore.

"This is not good. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He waited until his quarry had turned the corner, and then left the room, walking around the other direction. It was still light out, so there was no point in trying to hide. He stuck his hands in his pockets, took up a relaxed pace, and started whistling a silly tune. Two minutes later, he ran into his teammate.

"Problems?" He asked, his voice deceptively soft.

Booth skewered him with a glare that would melt glaciers. "What are you doing out here?"

Tony dropped the act. "I told you, I'm doing recon."

"Of this place?"

"I don't like to leave any loose ends. What are you doing out here?"

Booth crossed his arms. "Looking for you. We shouldn't be wandering on our own."

Tony nodded as if that explained everything. "Then we should both probably get back to the room."

They eyeballed each other for a minute, and then went back to their room, neither one put at ease by the confrontation.

oNCISo


	8. Oh What Fun the Past Can Bring

When 0300 rolled around, Tony, Trista and Booth were wide-awake and geared up for action. Tony had taken the opportunity to re-bandage his arm before getting some sleep. He trusted Gibbs to keep an eye on his team, and he was actually able to manage a solid five hours before waking.

Booth was still watching him when he thought Tony wasn't looking, his normally cheerful disposition hidden under suspicious glances and a dark frown. It had gotten to the point where Trista was starting to notice that something was going on, which prompted Tony to pull Booth into the bathroom as they were getting ready.

"What's the problem, Seeley?" He purposely used the FBI agent's first name, chiefly because he knew it pissed him off.

"You're hiding something."

"Maybe. What about you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Tony shoved him back against the wall. "I gave that note to you. It was clearly not addressed to Black, so mind telling me how he got involved?"

Booth looked confused. "That's what you're so pissed about? He's in charge, Tony, did you expect me to not tell him? Hell, you're the one who brought me into this whole business. You convinced me that Black was legit. So don't blame me for something I had no control over."

Tony stepped back, letting Booth go. "All right. I'm sorry. So, what's the problem you have with me?"

"I told you, I know you're hiding something about this mission. I don't like being kept out of the loop."

Tony let his gaze drift toward the door to the bedroom where Trista was waiting. "I know, but that's the way things have to be right now." He held up a hand to forestall Booth's protestation. "Just trust me. Focus on the objective. Hopefully, I'm just being overly paranoid."

Booth looked skeptical, but he just shrugged. "Our lives are way too complicated. You know that, right? We need a vacation."

Tony laughed as he left the bathroom. "Yeah, tell that to my boss. He'd smack me just for suggesting it."

Trista came up then and handed the two men their bulletproof vests. "If you boys are ready…?"

Tony checked his watch. 0315. "Let's go."

xXxXx

"DiNozzo, I don't know how you get me involved in these things," Gibbs muttered quietly as he trained his binoculars on the warehouse opposite the one he was currently occupying. The area was quiet, though there were lights in one corner of the building. On an earlier recon, Gibbs had been able to confirm four hostiles. Unfortunately, said bad guys had enough guns to arm the Michigan militia.

Gibbs' attention was drawn away from the building to a dark sedan pulling up three buildings down. "That'll be Tony." Sure enough, three figures emerged and fanned out, silently melting into the shadows.

Gibbs still wasn't sure how he felt about all of this. He'd seen firsthand just how adept DiNozzo could be at undercover work, and the kid definitely had razor-sharp (if a little unorthodox) investigative skills. But working for a secret organization? For the past nine years?

Inconceivable.

He rolled his eyes as he remembered DiNozzo's litany the last time someone had used that word in his presence.

"_It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable."_ He'd actually done the entire scene in the boat, but Gibbs had allowed it because it annoyed the suspect enough that he'd started talking just to get DiNozzo to shut up. Which was the point.

"_You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." _That in an awful Spanish accent followed by a soliloquy on the virtues of Mandy Patinkin.

"_You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!"_

The last one had earned DiNozzo a Gibbs-slap, even though that was one of a few movies Gibbs had actually enjoyed.

But back to the problem at hand. The scenario shouldn't have been all that difficult for Gibbs to imagine. He knew talent when he saw it, and DiNozzo certainly fit the bill.

As he watched Tony take up position by one of the doors, he suddenly recognized the emotion he'd been trying to ignore.

He was _jealous_!

Tony was _his_ agent, and while he was proud of the long line of agencies that had tried to recruit DiNozzo away from him, he was even more proud of the fact that Tony hadn't even considered leaving NCIS. His usual two-year limit had come and gone with little fanfare, and he now held the record for longest stay on Gibbs' team.

Tony was already good at his job when Gibbs recruited him, but he'd progressed by leaps and bounds under Gibbs' tutelage. Even if they never talked about it, Gibbs knew Tony saw him as a mentor, even a father-figure, while Tony played the role of eldest son in their dysfunctional family.

And now Gibbs was confronted by the reality that Tony already had that. However upset Tony had been with Black over his manipulation of the situation, he had simply accepted it. Tony had been part of this agency thing for _nine years_. That was a level of commitment that Gibbs had hoped was reserved for NCIS. For him.

It was completely ridiculous, of course. Tony _wasn't_ his child, and he had every right to keep something like this a secret. It did _not_ mean that he held any less respect for Gibbs.

Right.

Gibbs checked his watch and saw that it was getting close to go-time. He slid away from the window he'd been spying from, gathered his gear and headed down to ground level. He stopped just inside the exit, his ear tuned to the radio waiting for the order to execute.

With any luck, Gibbs wouldn't actually have to do anything. If everything went according to plan, the others would never know he'd been there. The likelihood of that, however, was extremely small. He was there in case something went horribly wrong, and inevitably, trouble followed DiNozzo like bees to honey.

"All teams, standby to execute."

White's voice broke through his reverie, and he drew his weapon, all the while watching Tony in the shadows across the way. Somewhere out there, the other two agents would be waiting as well.

"3, 2, 1, execute. Execute."

Gibbs pulled open the door, ducking as he moved quickly to the spot Tony had vacated at White's order. He peeked in the door to the warehouse. Seeing nothing, he entered quietly, keeping his Sig up as he swept left and right, eyes open for hostiles. Tony would have already cleared the area, but there was no harm in being cautious.

He heard shots ahead, short bursts from a machine gun and the steady staccato of a 9mm. He quickened his pace, barely seeing the body he stepped over as he ran down the hall, and finally came upon an open area where all the action seemed to be taking place. Tony was ducked behind a crate a few yards to his left, firing on the position of the machine gunner. Gibbs could see Booth even further away, one man dead at his feet as he also aimed for the hostile.

Trista, however, was nowhere to be seen, and this was cause for concern. He scanned the area again while he mentally ran through his options. If he tried for a shot on the machine gun, his element of surprise would be gone. Waiting, however, accomplished nothing.

His decision made, Gibbs was just about to pop up when another shot rang out, this time from above. His eyes were drawn to the catwalk ten feet overhead where he saw Trista Kraven locked in a struggle with a man he recognized as Thomas Lincoln. They were grappling for a gun, each trying to land a stunning blow to gain the upper hand.

The fight had drawn Tony's attention as well, and when he turned to see what was going on, his right side was exposed. The hostile he'd been firing at picked that exact moment to pop out of his hiding place, spraying Tony's position with bullets. Gibbs shouted a warning, but it was lost in the cacophony of noise, and he could only watch in horror as Tony was struck twice before collapsing.

xXxXx

The plan had worked perfectly. As soon as White's order had come through, Tony had burst silently into the building, gun at the ready. His breathing was steady, his eyes moving constantly to take in his surroundings. Booth would be coming from the opposite side of the building, while Trista would be moving in on a third side to form a triangle.

A door creaked ahead to his left and he paused, ducking into a shadow. A boot crossed the threshold, and Tony looked up to see that it belonged to a small, mouse-ish man smoking a cigarette. He began to walk away from Tony's position, and Tony rose to follow. When the man swore softly and turned, there was no chance to hide, so Tony fired twice, striking the surprised man high in the chest and throwing him backwards. Tony paused only long enough to confirm that the man was dead before moving on, faster now that he'd most likely been heard.

He was greeted by machine gun fire when he entered the large open area, and he quickly ducked behind a crate, seeing Booth off to his left as he put a bullet in the head of another hostile. He looked across the room, but there was no sign of Trista. If she had been in position, she could have taken down the guy with the machine gun. Unless, of course, he'd already taken care of her. It was better not to think like that, though the alternative wasn't much better.

Tony hadn't wanted to believe Trista was the spy, but the pieces had fallen into place with far too much ease. She had always been the most reserved of the group, with very clearly defined opinions. She didn't socialize with the others, and the only members of the organization that she'd formed a connection to had been Kyle and Thomas Lincoln.

Kyle, of course, was dead, and Lincoln – well, he had been suspected of being the one who had killed him. There was no proof of this, of course, and Lincoln had sworn to Black that he'd had nothing to do with it, but there were inconsistencies in his story. Trista had backed Lincoln, but when he left, declaring he wanted nothing more to do with the Agency, she had stayed.

Tony had been young then, and just a little too trusting still. He'd wanted to believe Lincoln, believe that Black couldn't have been so wrong in asking the man to join them. He had supported Black's decision to let Lincoln go. After that, Trista had withdrawn even further, still active in the Agency, but always on her own terms.

All of this was running through his head even as he was firing on the hostile, so it was no surprise that he was more than a little distracted when the shot rang out above him. He could hear Trista's voice, and when he turned and saw Lincoln there as well, he forgot everything else and stood up.

The last thing he saw as he hit the floor was Gibbs sprinting toward him as he took out machine-gun guy.

oNCISo


	9. Is that a Dancing Skeleton?

oNCISo

_Tony could see Gibbs running toward him, his face contorted in grief. He seemed to be moving in slow motion, and even though he was speaking, Tony couldn't hear anything through the loud buzzing in his head. _

_He blinked, and he was suddenly lying on the floor looking up at Gibbs, who was leaning against a crate smoking a cigarette as bullets flew past in slow motion._

_The incongruity of the situation made Tony frown. "Boss?"_

"_It's about time you woke up, DiNozzo. Your show is about to start."_

_Tony shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs. "My show?"_

"_Magnum P.I. You said you wanted to watch this episode."_

"_I did?"_

_Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Never mind. You're too late." He suddenly pulled out an old Colt revolver and spun, putting two rounds in the chest of Black – who, Tony belatedly realized, was the one who had been shooting at them._

_Black looked down at the two spots of color that were rapidly darkening, and then looked back up at Tony. "I told you this was a bad idea."_

"_Yeah, I'm beginning to realize that." Tony got to his feet and looked around. Booth was a few feet away, speaking with what appeared to be a skeleton._

"_So Bones, how do you like my family?"_

_The skeleton peered at Tony with its hollow eyes. "Objectively, I'd have to say you're right. He is obfuscating."_

_Booth narrowed his eyes. "I don't know what that means."_

_The skeleton draped an arm around his shoulders. "He's hiding something."_

_Tony had seen some very creepy things in his line of work, but even he had trouble keeping the contents of his stomach from coming up when the skeleton suddenly pulled Booth toward it with a leash that had suddenly appeared around the man's neck and started kissing him passionately. Tony whirled around, coming face to face with Ziva._

"_What are you doing here?"_

"_McGee and I were in your apartment."_

"_So I've heard."_

_She smiled wickedly. "We opened your record player."_

_McGee suddenly appeared behind her. "I never knew you kept Kate's badge. Any other secrets we can use against you?"_

_Tony whirled again when he felt a tap on the back of his head._

"_DiNozzo, I told you to watch your damn show. Are you disobeying a direct order?"_

_Tony followed Gibbs' gaze upwards, where he saw Trista dancing with Tom Selleck on the catwalk. It looked to be a very complicated waltz – made even more difficult by the guns they each held in their hands. _

_Tony couldn't believe his eyes. "Tom Selleck? What are you doing here?"_

_Selleck bowed to Trista as the dance ended, and then turned to Tony. "Beats me, kid. When I write my book on how to be a world class private investigator, I'm going to include a chapter on dreams."_

"_Dreams?"_

"_Yeah, kid. Does this look like reality to you?"_

_Tony felt another sharp pain in the back of his head and he turned again to face Gibbs. "What the hell was that for, Boss?"_

"_Time to wake up, DiNozzo."_

"_Wake up?"_

"DiNozzo, I swear to God, if you don't open your eyes right now I'm putting you on desk duty for a month."

Tony's eyes flew open at the sound of Gibbs' voice. His boss was kneeling at his side, looking relieved.

Tony blinked at the harsh lights on the ceiling. "Did Tom leave already?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Booth is keeping an eye on the lovebirds upstairs. I don't think Trista likes Lincoln much anymore, though. He tried to kill her." Gibbs tried to restrain Tony from getting up. "DiNozzo, sit down before you fall down!"

Tony ignored his boss, staggering over to the stairs and pulling himself up the metal railing. Lying down, he had seen what Gibbs hadn't – Lincoln rushing Booth. As Tony reached the top of the stairs, Lincoln aimed a nasty right hook at Booth's head, felling the man. He grabbed his gun, training it on Tony as he stepped toward him. Tony held up his hands, leaning against the railing to keep his balance as his head starting spinning.

"Tom, stop! You don't want to do this!"

Thomas Lincoln laughed, kicking Booth in the head to ensure he'd stay down. "Really? That is so cliché, Tony. Surely you have better material?"

"Enough with the games, Tom." Tony shook his head. "Why would you do something like this?"

"The same reason everyone does something like this – money. My new friends were looking to make a statement; I had the means to do it."

"And what? Blowing yourself up was the way to financial freedom?"

"Nonsense. I would have been long gone by the time the action started."

"Didn't count on us dropping in, did you?"

Tom frowned. "I confess, I had hoped Hamid could be taken care of before the colors of the rainbow got involved. But it has been amusing watching you all scurry around, trying to save the day."

"Looks like we succeeded." Tony was having a hard time staying upright. Gibbs was at his back, gun trained on Lincoln.

"Doesn't matter. I got what I wanted, and I even had some fun while I was at it." He leered in Trista's direction. "She's quite a tiger in the sack. I can see why Kyle was so interested. Shame I had to kill him before he got a taste of the goods."

"You killed Kyle?" Trista had been quiet until now, cowering against the railing. She stood now, shaking. "You lied to me. You said Black had arranged the hit, that Kyle was trying to take over. That's why you asked me to help you, to stay and keep tabs on things while you gathered evidence against Black. Why would you lie to me?"

It was all starting to come together for Tony. "Kyle knew you were dirty, didn't he, Tom? He got too close to one of your secrets, started asking the wrong questions. So you had to shut him up. But we couldn't quite trust you after that. Black would have never given you access to the quality of information you needed to pay the bills."

"Kyle was a fool. All of you are. Don't you see the potential? You have all this information at your fingertips, and you just give it away."

"We use it to protect our country! That used to mean something to you."

"My country – a political boundary, it means nothing."

"It means everything," Tony shouted. "And you dragged Trista down with you."

"She's nothing," Tom said dismissively. "Enough of this. We're done talking about the past. Let's start talking about- what are you doing?"

Trista had apparently had enough. Tony had been watching her face as Tom talked. She was angry, betrayed, and his comment that she was nothing had apparently made her snap. She leapt on him, grabbing for the gun, kicking and swinging.

Tony ran forward, but it was far too late. Tom was unbalanced, and the force of Trista crashing into her slammed them both into the railing. It gave way, and the two were sent plummeting to the concrete floor below.

Silence reigned, and then a wave of vertigo overtook Tony. He stumbled closer to the edge before an arm pulled him back.

"Easy now," said Gibbs, laying him down. Tony heard him calling out to Booth, telling him to wake up, but then there was silence. Tony saw his lips move, but couldn't make out the words as the events of the past few days came crashing down on him.

"I really have to read Magnum's book," Tony muttered, and then allowed his eyes to slip shut.

xXxXx

It was the voices that persuaded Tony to wake up. He reached for the radio, but connected instead with something soft. When he opened his eyes, he realized that the something soft was an arm belonging to the person who was speaking.

Gibbs.

Tony sat up, taking in his surroundings. He was on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, his vest off and shirt open, revealing what were promising to be two spectacular bruises on his chest and side. The back doors of the bus were open, revealing the warehouse and the pre-dawn light across the bay.

It really was quite beautiful, but the events of the early morning made it all just a little too surreal for Tony to fully appreciate it. Instead, he focused his attention on the conversation happening over his head. Gibbs' arm was resting on the rail of the stretcher, and he was looking across at a gorgeous red-haired EMT.

"…not the first time he's hit his head," Gibbs was saying.

"We should probably get a CT scan then, just in case."

Tony decided that was his cue to intervene.

"N't gon' nowh're."

Well. That had come out better than he'd expected.

Gibbs turned his attention to his senior field agent, raising an eyebrow. "You kept telling me to get a picture of Tom Selleck and the crazy dancing skeleton."

"I di'?"

"Yes, you did."

"Oh." That was news to him, though now that he thought about it, he seemed to recall a lot of weird things happening in the past few hours. "What happened?" He spoke slowly, enunciating carefully in an effort to prove his mental wellbeing.

"Trista and Lincoln took a swan dive off the catwalk."

Tony suddenly remembered looking down at two bodies on a concrete floor. "Dead?"

"Lincoln is. Trista was taken to the hospital. Not sure if she's going to make it. Cracked her head pretty hard."

"Others?"

With a glance at the EMT, Gibbs leaned closer. "Booth confirmed that the other sites have been neutralized. Black's letting the CIA handle clean up. He'll be here in a few hours."

"Not tha' intres'ed in talking to him."

Gibbs looked smug as he shrugged slightly. "Well, you can tell him that when he arrives."

Tony rolled his eyes, and then regretted it as Gibbs swam in and out of focus. "Ugh…so what happens now?"

"Now-" Gibbs was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. He winced as he glanced at the screen. "It's Abby. She's been calling me since five this morning."

"What time is it now?"

"A little after six." Gibbs sighed, and then flipped his phone open. "Gibbs."

Tony could hear Abby's voice through the small speaker on the phone. _"Gibbs! Where's Tony? I had another dream, and it was really weird! There was this dancing skeleton, and Tony was dancing with Tom Selleck."_

Gibbs interrupted. "That's really more than I needed to know, Abs."

"_But he's okay, right?"_

"Yeah, Abs, he's right here. Hang on." He covered the mouthpiece to speak to Tony. "Think you can convince her you're fine so she stops calling every five minutes?"

"What does she know?"

"That you're not in Philly, and that she can't tell anyone about it."

"And what happened this morning?"

"Your choice."

Tony gestured for the phone, closed his eyes to keep his head from swimming, and then said brightly, "Hey Abs! What's up?"

"_Tony! I thought you were dead, and we couldn't find you, only Gibbs said you were fine, but I couldn't really believe it until I heard from you myself, you know? But then I had that other dream, and it was just really freaky, and Gibbs said you weren't in Philly, but he wouldn't tell me what was going on and so I did some checking, only I can't find you anywhere, and I was just so worried!"_

Tony let her go until she seemed to have run out of words, knowing that he wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise anyway. "Abby, I promise I'll tell you everything when I get back, okay?"

"When?"

That was a good question. "I'm not really sure, Abs. Maybe tomorrow."

"_But you're okay?"_

"I'm fine, Abs, I swear."

"_Put Gibbs back on."_

"Sure." As he handed the phone back, he felt a twinge in his ribs. His head was starting to make his stomach do somersaults, and he thought maybe the hospital wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Gibbs seemed to sense this, so after assuring Abby that Tony was, in fact, okay and still alive, and that Tom Selleck was not anywhere in the vicinity, and no, he couldn't arrange for her to meet him, he was able to hang up and send a meaningful look at the red-haired EMT, who promptly told her partner to close the doors and get them moving.

As Tony settled back for the trip, he silently thought over the events of the last few days. It had been a whirlwind adventure, and he wasn't sure he'd ever understand everything that had happened. One thing was for sure, though.

He was ready for a break.

oNCISo


	10. Snow Dragons

oNCISo

Tony's visit to the hospital was thankfully short and to the point. His arm was properly stitched up, with a shot of antibiotics as a chaser. He had a mild concussion which had contributed to his visions of Tom Selleck, and to top it all off, two bruised ribs and deep tissue contusions on his flank.

Overall, he was better off than he'd been after most of his previous encounters with bad guys.

Before he left, and against Gibbs' wishes, Tony stopped in Trista's room to see how she was doing. It wasn't an encouraging sight. Her leg was broken in two places and her body was covered with mottled bruising. The real problem, though, was the skull fracture. Her road to recovery would be long and difficult

Tony couldn't help but think about what a waste it was. "She should have told us what was going on."

"When you love someone, you tend to be a bit irrational."

The tone in Gibbs' voice made Tony curious, and he cast a long look at his boss. Gibbs just shrugged, an ancient pain lingering behind his clear blue eyes. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

Tony nodded, accepting that this was the only answer he would get for the time being. He looked down again at Trista, but instead of the severe red-head, he saw a petite brunette instead, grinning up at him cheekily.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this."

"Kate?"

Tony blinked, and then shook his head, which turned out to be a really stupid thing to do, but it accomplished its purpose – the vision of Kate fragmented, and once again Tony was looking down at Trista. He decided to blame the concussion for his momentary lapse in sanity.

Unfortunately, Gibbs had heard Tony's soft exclamation and was looking at his senior field agent with a worried glint. Afraid that his unexpected reprieve from a hospital stay would be revoked, Tony searched for a plausible explanation for why he had just uttered the name of his dead partner.

"Uh…Kate was a friend of Trista's from her Secret Service days. I just remembered."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but didn't question the odd change of topic. "I think I remember her being at the funeral."

"Yeah, they weren't real close, but they always got along pretty well. Trista told me they got put on a lot of perimeter details together because they were women. She said it made Kate really mad." Tony smiled, picturing Kate's response to the obvious sexist attitudes of her superiors.

Whatever Gibbs might have replied to that was cut off by the sound of Black's voice out in the hall. Tony and Gibbs exchanged a glance before going out to meet him.

He seemed to be happy to see them, though obviously restrained by the reality that one of his team was severely injured. At Tony's questioning look, he explained his presence. "Agent Booth sent the mission complete message on to Miss White, who passed it along to me. As soon as our site was secure, I returned on the jet. I was hoping you could fill me in on what transpired between Miss Red and the late Mr. Lincoln."

Tony was prepared to launch into an explanation, but something about the look on Gibbs' face stopped him. "You know what, I'll send you my report. How did the others do?"

Black looked less than pleased with this answer, but seemed to decide that he wasn't going to get anything else out of Tony. "Our team in Las Vegas met with minimal resistance. Mr. Blue and Miss Grey are coordinating with the CIA and Homeland Security to get things cleaned up. Mr. Brown and his team also met with success. They were called back to their base shortly thereafter, but the team sent in after them described their work as 'frighteningly efficient'."

"So we just handed everything over to Langley?"

"Our agency is not particularly equipped for clean-up of nuclear materials. This particular leak in the CIA has been effectively stoppered, so I felt that bringing them in was justified. As long as you approve, of course."

Tony could tell Black was trying to throw him off balance and put him back in place, and he didn't think it was very sporting to do that to an injured man. Furthermore, he was getting tired of the manipulation. "Whatever. I'm assuming someone will be looking for Rashid and al-Hazdin?"

"It's been sent through channels."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Translation: They got lost in the shuffle and we have no idea where they are or what they might be planning next. Wonderful."

Black was getting frustrated. "We do what we can, Anthony. I suggest you take into consideration the very dangerous ground you're standing on."

It was at this point that Gibbs decided to intervene, mostly because he didn't want his senior field agent injuring himself further by doing something stupid. He stepped between the men fluidly. "I think," he reasoned calmly, "that we are all tired and a bit on edge. So this conversation should probably be finished some other time."

Black backed down first, his polite mask back in place as he addressed Gibbs. "Quite right. I hope, Agent Gibbs, that we can count on your future participation in the Agency."

"It's Special Agent, actually. And I can guarantee you, I will always be there to back up Tony." He emphasized the younger man's name and saw Tony perk up at the veiled threat directed toward Black.

Black recognized it for what it was. If, or when, Tony felt that his membership in the Agency was no longer beneficial, Gibbs would be there to ensure the man could get out. "Of course." He turned back to Tony. "I look forward to reading your report."

Tony nodded and then turned to follow Gibbs down the hall. He was almost to the elevator when he heard Black call out to him. He nodded in assurance at Gibbs' look, and turned back.

"You really did do a good job, Tony."

"You couldn't have orchestrated it better if you tried."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You could have just asked him yourself."

Black just raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, okay, so he would've told you where to stick it." Tony fixed him with a glare. "Just remember something – Gibbs doesn't like being played, and neither do I. Remember that the next time you have Whitey call me."

"So you're staying with the Agency?"

Tony sighed, suddenly extremely tired. "I still believe in what you created us to be. I don't want that to change."

Black smiled. "You really are an amazing young man."

"I learned from the best." And with that, Tony went back to Gibbs, smiling as the older man cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.

xXxXx

Tony winced as he pulled on his shirt the next morning. Gibbs was allowing him on desk duty until the worst of the bruises began to fade. He'd spent the previous evening trying to figure out what he was going to tell everyone about what he'd been up to. True, he'd promised to tell Abby everything, and he would hold to it, but like his apartment, certain things just weren't meant to be shared with everyone.

Still, he had to come up with a story for Ziva and McGee. (Gibbs had agreed to handle the Director. Tony couldn't tell him that Jenny already knew about MJ and his involvement because of his brief stint as team leader – all of this, of course, reminding him that he was still paying for covering up his involvement with Jeanne and a certain undercover operation to ferret out a French arms dealer. But seriously, one problem at a time.)

Tony followed Gibbs out the door of his apartment. They had stopped by Tony's place to gather some clothes and personal items, at which time Tony decided to take short nap and Gibbs had decided it was too much bother to take Tony to Gibbs' house.

Gibbs wouldn't let Tony drive, but did show some deference to Tony's concussion and only went ten miles over the speed limit instead of the usual twenty. They arrived before the others which gave Tony the great joy of seeing the look on Ziva's face when she stepped off the elevator.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"It's called work, Ziva."

Ziva's response was cut off by the arrival of McGee, whose expression upon seeing Tony was so hilarious that Tony was glad he had set up the camera to take a picture of it. As he transferred it to his computer to send it to Abby and the secretary pool, Ziva and McGee began to bombard him with questions.

"Where have you been?"

"Does this mean Gibbs is back, too?"

"Have you always kept a Glock under your mattress?"

"Do you have the complete set of every seventies sitcom?"

"Are you ever going to get back to work?" This last question came from Gibbs as he descended the stairs from the Director's office, where he had gone to explain Tony's sudden reappearance. His question was met with a flurry of movement as Ziva and McGee hurried to their desks. Tony just smiled sweetly at them as Gibbs gave a short nod to Tony and then promptly left to go for coffee.

As soon as the elevator door closed, Ziva and McGee were back, looking expectantly at Tony for answers. He sighed, and mustered his best smile (DiNozzo #58 – You will believe everything I tell you because I'm just that good).

"Okay, here's the deal. I've been in Philadelphia working on a cold case. Obviously, Gibbs is back as well. I used to keep the Berretta in the mattress, but I like the feel of the Glock better. And no, McGee, I do not have the complete set of every seventies sitcom. I do, however, have the complete set of all the good ones."

The ordeal of the past few days was totally worth it to see the look on their faces. McGee was obviously totally confused, while Ziva looked simultaneously annoyed that she had found the Glock and not the Beretta, and impressed that he had such an arsenal at his disposal.

"But what happened? Gibbs tore out of here like a squirrel out of hell."

"And why did Gibbs send us to your apartment?"

"It's bat, Ziva, and to answer your question, I ran into some trouble with the case and was out of contact for a bit. I can't go into details, but Gibbs was called in to help. To answer _your_ question McGee, if you go near my apartment again without me, Thom E. Gemcity's next book will be delayed due to the author's unfortunate accident in which he broke all the bones in his hands. Are we clear?" He took McGee's stare as an affirmation of assent and smiled DiNozzo #7 – he called it the Hulk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see Abby."

Leaving his bewildered teammates behind, he took the elevator down to Abby's lab where was greeted by the raucous sound of Brain Matter. Abby was at her computer, facing away from him, so he took the opportunity to turn off the head-splitting noise.

Abby whirled around, and when she saw who it was, wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. Tony's bruises were unfortunately quite fresh, and he groaned, which prompted Abby to release him with a look of concern on her face. "What did you do to yourself?"

Tony rattled off his various injuries and then settled back to listen to Abby's rant about how it would be even worse for his health if he ever pulled something like this again and that if he wanted to live, he would keep Abby in the loop. Tony nodded in the appropriate places, and when Abby finished, he told her what he'd really been up to the last few days – which, of course, prompted a second round of admonitions.

When Abby was satisfied with Tony's promises that he wasn't going to get himself into any more trouble for awhile, she let him go with a pat on the head and a reminder that his news would have gone over better had he brought her a Caf-Pow! and that she was only letting him off the hook this time because he had hurt his head.

Tony considered his escape one of the better moves he had made in life, but before returning to the bullpen, he had one more stop to make. He had been bothered by something from the beginning of this whole mess, and he figured there was only one way to solve the matter.

Ducky was in his office when Tony popped in to see him. "Hey, Duck! Got a minute?"

"Anthony, dear boy! I was wondering when you were going to come see me. I trust things went well with the case?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Well, I am glad you're back, lad. What can I do for you?"

Tony sat on the corner of the desk. "Ducky, what can you tell me about snow dragons?"

"Snow dragons? Quite a bit, actually. There's a legend going back thousands of years concerning a group of fierce warriors who lived in the mountainous regions of what is now Iran. These warriors would appear when they were most needed, riding great dragons from the north. It's actually a rather obscure legend. Wherever did you hear of it?"

"Heard it from a friend. Thanks Duck." Tony gave him a smile and left.

xXxXx

He got back to the bullpen just as Gibbs was asking McGee about the case they'd been working on before this whole thing had started.

"Well…we still don't have any leads."

Tony had often believed that Gibbs had the ability to kill with a single look, and he felt it appropriate to step in before his theory was proven correct.

"Actually, I made some calls this morning. Turns out the Admiral's son made another appointment – a hooker from one of his many 900 numbers. He's holed up in a motel in Annapolis with Jerri right now – quite a nice girl, actually, said she'd keep him occupied until we got there."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "And the roommate?"

"I think we need to have another chat with his girlfriend. I looked over the interview transcripts again, and she mentioned certain rigorous interpersonal activities. Maybe they got out of hand – Ducky did say he thought it was an accident."

Ah, the sweet smell of victory. McGee was obviously kicking himself for not figuring it out before, Ziva was angrily trying to figure out how someone who had missed most of the investigation could pull an answer out of nowhere, and Gibbs – Gibbs was laughing.

Laughter which quickly turned into another glare at Ziva and McGee who left to pick up the girlfriend and the Admiral's son.

Tony sat back in his chair at his desk. A contented smile on his face. Oh yes. Life was good.

oNCISo


	11. Epilogue

oNCISo

_Bones_

Seeley Booth hadn't even made it three steps into the Jeffersonian lab before feeling a sharp pain in his left bicep. He granted himself a mental wince, and then turned around with a hesitant smile. 

"Bones! Hey. How's it going?"

The petite brunette had her arms crossed, and was notably _not_ smiling. "Where have you been? And don't call me Bones."

"Look…Temperance. I can't tell you where I was."

"We're partners, Booth. You can't just leave me with some random asshole and expect me to work with him."

Booth narrowed his eyes. "Why? Did you get a case?"

"No. But that's not the point. You did, and you wouldn't take me with you."

"Bones, I wasn't on a case."

Brennan pursed her lips. "You weren't?"

"No."

"Then what, exactly, were you doing?"

"Helping out a friend."

"Who?"

"We call him the Green Fairy."

"Isn't that a euphemism for Absinthe?"

"Uh…maybe?"

"Booth, if you're telling me that you have been reveling for the past week with members of a fraternal organization, I will hurt you."

"You already got a punch in, and no, I have not been getting drunk with old frat brothers. I had legitimate business of the classified nature. More Jason Bourne, less Ferris Bueller."

"I don't know what that means."

"I figured. Come on, Bones. I'll take you to dinner and then we're watching all three Bourne movies." Booth grabbed Brennan's hand, pulling her along behind him. "So, tell me about this asshole you've been working with. Did Hodgins give him a proper welcome?"

"Cam let him and Zach skin a pig and then do different acid tests on it. Harriman made it through three of them before turning an unnatural shade of green. Angela made a simulation for you."

Booth grinned as he followed his partner out of the building. As much as he enjoyed secret organizations and getting shot at by terrorists, there was something to be said for being home.

xXxXx

_The Unit_

_Somewhere in St. Louis – 0430 – Immediately following the take-down_

Sgt. Robert Brown of the US Army smiled in satisfaction at the sight before him. Five bad guys down for the count, one bad boomer being picked at by the explosives expert from Charlie Team, and two of his fellow Unit members cooling their heels as they waited for a clean-up crew.

It really had been spectacularly easy. He'd met Hector Williams, Matt Fuentes and Sam Darling at the airport, filled them in on the situation, and then they'd hunkered down outside the warehouse they'd been assigned to clear out. Three hours of waiting followed by a two-minute gunfight – if you could even call it that; he didn't think the bad guys had squeezed off even one round.

Reports were still coming in from the other two teams, but preliminaries suggested complete success. He wasn't sure about casualties, but he'd get all of that later from White.

"Hey, Bobbo."

Bob sighed as he turned his attention to Hector Williams. It wasn't his favorite nickname, which, naturally, meant that his teammates used it every chance they had.

"Yeah?"

"You never did tell us how you got involved with this outfit. I'm assuming you told Top, of course, but I'd like to know who I'm working for."

"Got involved when I was in the Rangers. First tour in Iraq, had a buddy in another outfit who approached me about it."

"You do realize you're a member of three covert organizations."

"Gee, really? I'm so glad you're here to keep track of these things for me."

They were interrupted by chirping, which was coming from Bob's phone. "Boss is calling." He flipped it open. "Brown."

"_Alpha Team has a lead on your rogue Iranians. Get back to base."_

Brown gave a sharp whistle as he hung up. "Colonel Ryan has some paper for us to push. Let's get a move on."

He eased into a quick jog back to the car as he radioed the details to White, who assured him the local police were inbound to take care of the scene. As he got in the car, he noticed a thoughtful look on Hector's face.

"What?"

"Just wondering…what happens when one of your covert organizations is sent up against the others? You're gonna have to choose a side."

It was the nightmare scenario that Brown hadn't really wanted to think about before. He knew it was possible. More than likely, considering the nature of the three organizations.

Just where did his loyalties lie?

"That, my friend, will be an interesting day."


End file.
